Clinical Confrontation
by NatD-LE
Summary: Fenris gets drunk and picks a fight with Anders, who refuses to fight back. Fenris & Anders oriented story. Fenris/F!Hawke relationship implied


**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or its characters.**

 **Third person point of view.**

 **A sort-of sequel to Electric Love and also a part of my Hawke universe. I lean more toward the idea that Anders and Fenris, while they are rivals, have the potential of being civil and speaking calmly as grown adults without it leading to a fight. Plus, they canonly play cards together and talk about personal stuff. This isn't so far-fetched.**

 **These events take place after Fenris meets Varania but before he talks to Hawke about it.**

Anders made his way to Darktown after spending a whole day traversing the mountains. They managed to get the drakestone they needed for his 'potion' but ran into a snag when they saw a high dragon nesting in the ruins of the mine. Hawke and Aveline could not run fast enough from the burning flames and Hawke spent the rest of the trip complaining that she wasn't fireproof.

The poor healer sighed wearily, exhausted from the whole ordeal. Thankfully, Lirene insisted on taking care of clients in her store for a few days with the salves Anders helped make so he can have a day or two to relax. Whether that was a suggestion given by Hawke and/or Varric was unknown to him, but he appreciated the idea that the clinic would be quiet and empty when he got there.

When he lit the lamps, however, that idea quickly went out the door.

"Fenris?" Anders frowned, surprised. The elf was sitting on one of the cots, legs propped as close to his chest as possible with the armor he wore. There was a wine bottle in between his fingers. He didn't answer to his name being called, just stared at Anders from under matted hair. Judging by the glare, he figured this wasn't a friendly social call.

Not to say Fenris visiting was ever a friendly or social call. He barely stepped foot in Darktown without Hawke. There was the one time three years ago when he asked Anders for help about Hawke's elemental abilities. He doesn't even bother coming in for healing; Anders is coerced into doing so at the Hanged Man or at his mansion whenever they have drinks and play cards there. He can't decide if Fenris genuinely hates the clinic or if he's too lazy to walk all the way there alone.

"Is you showing up every three years going to become a regular thing? Because, if so, I'd rather you send a note ahead first." Anders joked when the elf didn't answer. Fenris finally reacted, slowly sitting up to look Anders square in the face. Anders actually felt nervous about the raw anger he saw. Then, Fenris swiftly threw the bottle in his hand at Anders.

He must have not aimed correctly because the bottle smashed against the wall beside the other door to the clinic, several steps away. Still, the loud sound of glass exploding made Anders flinch and he looked at the broken pieces. The bottle was empty, judging by the lack of liquid.

"Maker! What is your problem?!" Anders exclaimed. The elf kept glaring at him as he slowly slid off the cot to his feet. He chuckled humorlessly.

"My problem? According to you, it's that I'm a hypocrite. Jealous, spiteful, without empathy maybe."

"Are you drunk?" Anders asked in disbelief.

"Oh yes, I always forget that problem." Fenris snorted. He was wobbling slightly on his feet and a brighter light on his face showed that his face was more red. "So why don't you heal me of my problems, healer? Since you're so good at it!"

Fenris rushed at Anders, who just barely dodged his fist when it went through the door. Thankfully, he didn't break it but phased through instead. Anders took the opportunity to move away in the opposite direction and take a more guarded stance.

"Now Fenris… you don't want to do something you'll regret." Anders tried to speak softly, hands outstretched to keep him at bay. Fenris smirked defiantly back.

"I think beating you bloody is something I'll regret the least about my life." He ran at him again and swung his fists. Anders put his arms up in front of his face but felt the hard knuckles make repeated contact with his skin. He kept blocking Fenris's punches, aimed at his lower body, when he could, but one would sometimes get caught at his side or chest, making him stumble backwards. Fenris got more and more frustrated in the meantime.

"Come on, mage! Why not fight back?!" He screamed.

"I don't want to fight you!" Anders shouted back.

"Why not?! Are you too afraid?!" He kept punching at him and yelling. "You mages are all the same, all cowards! You really think I am jealous of YOU?! Please! You can't even fight for what you preach!"

Anders could feel his own anger boiling at the pit of his stomach. Justice kept growling in his head, wanting to teach Fenris a lesson, but Anders couldn't let that happen. He kept dodging and letting Fenris yell while controlling his own anger.

"Why would I be jealous of my sister, who betrayed her own flesh and blood for power?! Why would I be jealous of Denarius after all the pain and suffering he has caused me?! Should I envy the blood mage who killed and experimented on Hawke's mom?! What right do you have to tell me that I am jealous when all I see from mages is evil and corruption?!" His punches became more desperate, this time aiming for Anders face. He slapped at him hard and Anders let him, listening to his cries.

He felt a pang of guilt, remembering what he told Fenris when his sister revealed to have led his former master to the Hanged Man. That Fenris was a hypocrite for his hatred of mages when his own sister was one. He knew what he said was wrong and out of line, but after six years of hearing his spiteful words against magic, Anders couldn't help being a little pissed off. He never thought Fenris would take it to heart so much.

He reached up to grab at Fenris's wrists, stopping him from hitting him. Fenris opted for using his legs once he was trapped, still very angry, but he was wobbling too much to stand on one leg at a time. Fenris got a few kicks in, thankfully ones that were sloppily aimed at his knees.

"I'm sorry, Fenris! I'm really sorry!" Anders yelled over his continued rants. The elf fell silent, stunned, then frowned.

"You're only saying that to make me stop hitting you." he growled, struggling against the mage's hold on him.

"No, I really am! I have no excuse for the things I said. I didn't think about your feelings and the situation you were in and I am sorry."

Fenris stopped struggling slowly and the two of them just stood there, trying to catch their breaths in silence. He refused to meet the healer's eyes, staring at the ground instead. Slowly, his body shook and he pressed his lips tightly together to stifle a small sob. His eyes welled up.

Anders kept still and sadly watched his companion break down to tears, knowing that making any kind of move to comfort him would result in more lashing out. When he started slumping and outright sobbing, Anders slowly moved Fenris over to a cot for him to sit on, releasing his wrists. He left the elf for a moment to grab some semi-clean water for him to drink, then he sat on the cot opposite him and waited.

Fenris didn't take long to stop crying, reduced to sniffles as he drank the water and quietly stared into the glass. The clinic was silent for a long time before he spoke.

"Your water tastes like crap."

"Well, pardon me for living in the Undercity. We can't all have luxurious clean water running out of seashell-shaped basins." Anders snorted. He saw a hint of a smile on Fenris's face.

"For your information, only Hawke has that." Fenris told him.

"Oh right, you collect rain water in a bucket" Anders laughed a little when the elf splashed some of his water at him. "Feeling better? More sober, I hope."

"Yes… thanks." Fenris mumbled, playing with the glass in his hand. "Sorry for hitting you. Repeatedly."

"Ah, I'll be okay once I heal myself and rest." He shrugged casually, trying not to wince when his shoulders throbbed. The elf sighed a little.

"You understand why I always think so lowly of mages? In my experiences, it's always been exactly like you have seen in the Hanged Man that day." He looked off into space sadly. "Family separated, betrayal in favor of power, murder and coercion. It was around every corner, endless. That was the life I was born into."

"It was that way for me too." Anders nodded in understanding. "Being born with magic is only a form of high status in Tevinter. In every circle I have been in, magic was seen as a curse. You cannot hope to be seen as anything but a stain on humanity unless you die or become tranquil. Otherwise, you're trapped and constantly watched because people think you're dangerous."

"Are you not?" Fenris raised an eyebrow.

"You've seen me in battle. I rarely use Justice and all I do is stand back and heal you whenever you charge in like a wild boar. I couldn't even punch you back once while you were flailing around just now." Fenris didn't respond, just kept staring at Anders while the mage huffed angrily. "Magic is not inherently dangerous. It depends on the person who wields it. Look at Merrill, for example. Against enemies, she may be scary, but just last week, she cried because she found a dead squirrel and had to be served hot tea by Hawke to feel better."

"Yes, but she's still most likely a danger to herself."

"That's true, but you get what I mean. Hawke, too, is a bigger danger to others than to her friends. You're with her all the time and I have yet to see her actually electrocute you to death." Anders smirked a little and Fenris stuck his tongue out at him. They both knew why that happens, but Anders still enjoys playing that running joke.

"That was uncalled for, but I see your point."

"Hell, you're not so different yourself."

"…Excuse me?"

"Your markings. People look at you and see something weird and unknown. It's raw magic etched into your skin. Are you telling me, when people saw you for the first time without getting to know you, they didn't think you were dangerous?" Anders asked. Fenris's eyebrows furrowed.

"That's… not the same–"

"Is it not? Wasn't that what Denarius kept you around to do, what you told us was your big job for that leech? You were a slave that was used to intimidate, show off Denarius's power to others because you looked so frightning–"

"Shut up!" Fenris snapped suddenly. Anders stopped and waited, foot successfully in his mouth with that rant. He expected more punching, but Fenris just sat there and glared at the ground.

"I'm just saying…" Anders spoke slowly, cautiously. "Maybe we are not so different after all." Fenris didn't answer right away, just frowned in thought. Finally, he just sat up and looked at him blankly.

"Maybe that's why we hate each other so much." he said dryly. Anders blinked and frowned. They thought about that for a moment, the idea that they hate each other because they are so similar. Then they started laughing.

"Maker, you are an asshole." Anders giggled.

"Takes one to know one, abomination." Fenris mocked.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Do you prefer 'mage'? Or 'demon'?" Anders had to swallow to keep Justice from reacting negatively, but he was laughing so much that it didn't matter.

"How about you call me by my name for once?"

"Anders isn't even your real name!"

"Neither is yours, _Leto_!" Fenris lobbed a pillow at Anders head as they laughed, not even finding the energy in his half-drunken state to be mad about being called by his accursed name.

"I hate you!" He managed to spit out. They continued for a moment and slowly settled down, Fenris opting for laying back on the cot and staring at the cracks in the ceiling. Anders went to get himself a drink of water as well.

"Hey, Fenris? Does Hawke know you're here?"

"No. I went to her home and Bodahn said she was out with you, Aveline, and Varric."

"So you got drunk and came to the clinic?"

"We all make poor choices when drunk. You, for example, try to play Wicked Grace."

"Shut up." Anders grumbled when the elf chuckled. Anders chucked the cot pillow back at his face and Fenris caught it to put under his head. "I would've thought you would be ranting to Hawke about your sister and former master, not me."

"I came here to beat you up for saying I was jealous of mages, not talk about my problems." He sighed. "Besides, I don't want to worry her."

"I think that ship has sailed and is keeping Isabela's ship company at the bottom of the ocean." Anders sipped his water.

"Ha ha ha." Fenris rolled his eyes. "I've burdened her enough for one lifetime. I drag her along to that fiasco of a meeting with Varania, then there was that incident with Hadriana. I'm not even certain she forgave me for that."

"Are we talking about the same Hawke, the one that came to lend you moral support and ended up completely roasting Denarius's ass? The one who goes off like a firework whenever you're around? The one who froze Hadriana's body and shattered it to pieces once she was dead?"

"She did _what_ to Hadriana?"

"Nevermind. Point is, the girl is so smitten for you that it makes me jealous of you and you say she'd be burdened by your whining?" Anders stared at him in disbelief. Although, he should not be that surprised by how self-deprecating Fenris is. The elf came to Darktown at the drop of a hat when he heard that Hawke was attacked by the coteri and came running into Anders' clinic for help as they chased her, but he wouldn't even admit that he was in pain after an arrow grazed him or he hit his head during a fight.

"What happened to me being a feral dog that would endanger her or something?" Fenris sat up and eyed Anders. He pursed his lips.

"Oh no, you don't get to hold things over my head just because I crossed the line once. If we're going to play that game, I have a lot of hateful phrases to hold over you."

"Fine, fine." Fenris waved him off. "Just never thought I'd hear you advocating for our relationship, of all people."

"Don't get me wrong, she can do much better–" Fenris kicked at him. "Let me finish! She can do better, but you can't, and I'm not about to let you throw that away because you're scared little puppy."

Fenris made a weird face. "I'll go as long as you never call me that again."

"Yeah, it sounded better when Merrill said it." Anders agreed. "Look, your concern for Hawke is obvious and admirable, if a bit overbearing, but you have to realize that she worries about you too. I didn't take your feelings into consideration, now don't start making that mistake too."

Fenris frowned and nodded slowly. "Perhaps you have a point."

"Plus, I should mention that Isabela used to date Hawke and I had a crush on her three or so years ago, so if you screw up, we will be eternally pissed." Fenris blinked and snorted a little. They stood up and walked to the door. "So, did I successfully heal your problems? Am I as good a healer as they say?" Anders grinned.

"Don't push your luck. My problems with mages are far from fixed."

"But you have to admit, you can understand a bit more about it."

"That's true, I suppose." Fenris nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his neck. "Again, sorry about my violent outburst."

"I'll live, just barely. But the good thing about it is we got to talk and now, maybe, we'll be a lot more nice to one another."

"I still don't like you, you know that, right?"

"I know. I don't like you either, but my statement still stands." Anders sniffed indignantly. Fenris shook his head but smiled just a little.

"Good night, Anders." he waved and walked out of the clinic, headed towards Hightown.

"Night!" Anders shut the door behind him and went to rest in his own bed, healing his bruises before laying back to relax. Although they are far from friends, it was the first time they talked like that in ages. Perhaps, with some understanding and equal ground, they can tolerate each other enough so that Hawke doesn't have to yell at them about 'babysitting a bunch of rowdy children'.

It was wishful thinking, but only time will tell.

 **Advice: do not bring Anders to Fenris's personal quest in act 3. He is mean and I blame Bioware.**

 **Reviews are appreciated to help me improve my writing!**


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